


Far Past the Brink of Insanity

by DeliciouslyKawaiiPhantom



Category: South Park
Genre: :(, Craig's not real, Crazy Tweek, Gen, Insanity, No Creek, No Fluff, No Plot/Plotless, No Smut, No happy endings, Not very amazing, PWP without Porn, Poor Tweek, Sad Ending, but i tried, insane asylum, you'll get it if you read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 09:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6279508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeliciouslyKawaiiPhantom/pseuds/DeliciouslyKawaiiPhantom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tweek's in a bad place..</p>
            </blockquote>





	Far Past the Brink of Insanity

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 2 a.m. and I haven't proof read it. I'll do it later, though. 
> 
> Have fun reading this piece of shit.

I worried at my lip and stared at the ground, trying to keep myself under control. My toes curled inside my wool socks. Dirty, unwashed, old socks that scratched atop my feet as they moved. I felt a scream clawing at the back of my throat, but refused to let it out- refused to let them win. 

 

My hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly inside my straight jacket, the fabric rubbing against my knuckles uncomfortably. Each second went past without a second thought and I could hear the tick _ -tick _ - **_ticking_ ** of a clock inside my head, over and over even when not a single thing was inside the room except  _ me _ . Stupid, dumb, worthless,  _ me. _

 

I felt something warm run down my chin and realized I had bit my lip to hard. The metallic taste of crimson was too much and I spit it out onto the cement floor. Blood and saliva mixed together, causing a puddle of a red-tinted liquid to form on the ground. Disgust overwhelmed me and I turned away from the mixture, landing my gaze on the opposite corner of the room. Nothing was there except for dust. 

 

Loneliness would kill me if the people who ran this crazy house didn’t. 

 

I felt a scratching at the back of my head and realize they were coming back. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the voices. They forced me to listen, though, told me that if I don’t listen that bad things would happen. I tried to convince myself that they were lying, but it didn’t work. Nothing worked anymore.

 

My breathing sped up as the whispers got louder, closing in on me and forcing me to curl in on myself. 

 

_ “Stupid!” “Worthless!” “Unbelievable!” “Disappointment!” “Crybaby!”  _

 

“Shut up, shut up! SHUT UP!”

 

Hot tears streamed down my cheeks and my breath came out in short puffs. I felt chills run up and down my spine when the voices turned into shouts. They yelled the same things, over and over and over again, getting louder each time. My sobs became bawling and I couldn’t care less who heard me or how insane I must of sounded.

 

“Please, just stop! I’ll do anything if you just stop!”

 

“Excuse me.”

 

The voices were gone in a flash and I was left alone, crying my eyes out with no chance of stopping. My head hurt from the mental torture and I almost didn’t notice the tall figure hovering over me, a straight look on their pale-skinned face.

 

“Are you okay.”

 

I couldn’t help the snort that fell through the cracks of my quiet sobs. The monotonous tone and faked concern was something I heard every day at that place. Nurses pretending they care, psychiatrists pretending you matter. Nothing new.

 

I wiped my eyes dry before looking up at the figure. “Who are you?”

 

“Craig Tucker. How about you.” My frown deepened at hearing his monotone voice again.

 

“Tweek Tweak.” Craig opened his mouth, but I stopped him. “Yes, my parents are druggies. No need to ask.”

 

Craig shrugged and looked around my small room. I had been put into solitary confinement for freaking out and biting another patient when they tried to push me out of my spot during lunch. It wasn’t my fault she was getting too close. So as punishment I got to go to the “quiet room,” otherwise known as confinement. My arms were bound just incase I tried anything. It was fucking ridiculous.

 

“So you’re probably wondering why I’m here.” Craig’s voice broke me away from my thoughts and I looked back up at him.

 

“I  _ wasn’t _ , thank you. You’re just a figment of my imagination, something the nurse told me to ignore if I wanna get out of here.” I huffed. The tall noirette glowered at my words but I wasn’t fazed.

 

“Well I’m going to tell you anyway.” Crouching down, he looked me straight in the eye, his piercing blue clashing against my emerald green. “I’m here to kill you, Tweek.”

 

Time itself froze at his words and I swallowed the fear that suddenly overwhelmed me. “You’re joking right? You have to be- You’re fake, remember!? Nothing you say is real, it’s all in my head!” I started to hyperventilate as I scooted myself into the corner of the room, trying to keep a distance between the noirette and myself.

 

“Don’t lie to yourself, Tweek. I’m as real as your insanity!” A laugh bursted through the other man’s mouth and it sounded as though he was choking on something. I felt myself growing more and more uncomfortable as the laughing-  _ gurgling _ \- went on. 

 

Then it stopped.

 

And I looked up at from where my head was buried in my arms and saw an empty room. Cement walls as bare as ever, metal door cold as ice. My eyes burned, but I couldn’t help staring at the middle of the room where a man once stood..

 

Where Craig Tucker once stood.

 

I also couldn’t help the giggles that filled the room as they poured from my mouth.

 

_ I actually  _ am _ insane.  _ I thought.  _ Because my mind created a man so horrible, a man who wanted to kill me, yet now that he’s gone, _

  
_ “I wish he would come back.” _

**Author's Note:**

> I'll make a sequel if anyone asks.


End file.
